


Atmospheric

by methylviolet10b



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Atmospheric, Comfort No Hurt, Fluff, M/M, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26626912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/methylviolet10b/pseuds/methylviolet10b
Summary: "I’m very sorry, gentlemen, but we’ve only the four rooms, and three of them are already taken. You’ll have to share the one we have left." Written for the September prompt over on Watson's Woes.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 88





	Atmospheric

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Атмосфера](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26696611) by [Little_Unicorn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Unicorn/pseuds/Little_Unicorn)



> Warnings: Significant fluff. Lots of comfort with no hurt in sight. Not much plot. And written in a rush. You've been warned.
> 
> Prompt: Atmospheric.

“I’m very sorry, gentlemen, but we’ve only the four rooms, and three of them are already taken. You’ll have to share the one we have left. It has a goodly sized bed, so you should fit well enough, but there’s no fireplace in that room.”

Holmes glanced at me halfway through the garrulous innkeeper’s monologue. A half-amused, half-resigned expression flickered across his mobile features and was gone in an instant.

“I’m sure it will be fine,” I assured the man. “We’re grateful that you had a room left, or we’d have had to try the next village.”

The innkeeper huffed. “You’d have gotten very wet before you reached Hilston-on-Ford, what with the storm coming in. You’re best here in Hilston-Saint-Mary.”

“I’m sure we are,” I agreed. I took a deep breath and smiled at the savory scent. “And if my nose can be trusted, I doubt we’d find a better supper there, either.”

The man grinned, all traces of worry and pique falling away. “You’re not wrong about that, as you’ll soon find. Never worry, gentlemen; by the time you’ve done with your meal, I’ll have your room made up with fresh linens and some extra blankets. It’ll be cold tonight.”

“A most charming country inn,” Holmes remarked so quietly that only I could hear him. The slight sarcasm was ameliorated by the smallest of smiles. “But it is markedly better than being out in the rain, I suppose.” Gusts of wind blew the first raindrops against the windows loudly enough to be heard over the low voices coming from the room that served as both dining room, common room, and pub, accentuating his point.

“As I believe I've said before, we’ve stayed in worse places.”

“True enough. And there may be advantages to a little time to think over what we have found.”

“After dinner, I trust?”

Holmes’ smile grew wider. “Of course.”

Holmes and I made an excellent meal. My friend did not always eat while on a case, but the success of the day’s investigations, combined with the impossibility of making any further progress that evening, left him comparatively relaxed. He ate lightly, but well. We chatted amiably about a wide variety of subjects, as we often did.

The innkeeper was as good as his word. By the time we made our way up the narrow stairs to our room, the bed was not only made with several extra blankets, an ancient warming-pan was set at the foot. The room was plain, and not overly large, with the bed taking up the majority of the space. But there was space for our valise in the corner, and a simple mirrored washstand and jug promised a way of wiping away the worst of the day’s dirt as well as the possibility of a shave in the morning.

There was already a chill in the room. We readied ourselves for sleep quickly. I turned the key in the simple door-lock before climbing into the bed next to Holmes, who lay half propped-up with a pillow between him and the headboard. He leaned over and turned down the one lamp, leaving the room in darkness.

Only then did he wrap his arms around me, drawing me down to rest my head on his chest, carefully cradling me so that there would be no strain on my bad shoulder when I circled his waist with my arm. One hand carded gently, rhythmically through my hair.

He said nothing. I knew he would not sleep for hours yet, if at all, his mind occupied with the case but his body at ease beside mine. Safe in the arms of my dearest friend, I fell asleep to the sound of the rain beating against the glass and the feel of Holmes’ hand in my hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted September 23, 2020.


End file.
